


Shut up and put your money where your mouth is

by Blossomdriver



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Drunkenness, Las Vegas, Las Vegas Wedding, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23336440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blossomdriver/pseuds/Blossomdriver
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley get drunk and get married in Vegas.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Shut up and put your money where your mouth is

Crowley had a habit of doing dumb things while he was drunk. How do you think he got half of his tattoos? Especially the one on his lower back. He was the first person to get, what he called.  _ A tramp stamp. _

He threw back his head as he took another swig of wine. "Listen, listen." He says. He has been trying to start the sentence for the last 3 minutes and still hasn't got past the first word.

"Imagine Gabriel's face if we were to get married!" The demon exclaims as he passes the bottle over to Aziraphale. Who took the bottle by its neck. His grip on it was tighter than was probably necessary, yet he can’t risk having it slip from his hands and spilled out onto the carpet. 

The two of them had been in Las Vegas for separate work. Crowley loathed coming to America, while Aziraphale managed to the country, as he put it. Mildly interesting. 

A simple job that should’ve taken less than a day had dragged out to almost two weeks entirely and Aziraphale was getting tired of the heat. So that’s why they are here now, sitting on the floor of Crowley’s hotel room passing back and forth a cheap bottle of wine that Crowley had stolen from the hotel bar. 

Aziraphale doesn’t even remember why they got on the topic of marriage anyway. It was probably best for them to never really know why.

"And Beelzebub, sure zir head would explode!" Crowley adds on. Using both hands to the jester out while making an explosion noise. Aziraphale chuckles at that, a goofy smile that reaches his eyes, his cheeks flushed with fondness or from the alcohol, whose to know. 

The Angel looks softly at Crowley. He had taken off his glasses a few hours ago, allowing Aziraphale to truly admire how beautiful the other’s eyes were. They were unique only to him.

"I had always thought of having a summer wedding though." Aziraphale slurs. Resting his cheek in his hand. “A cool summer evening by the beach, a tent and light strung up all nicely.” The rest of his sentence gets muffled, his head slips and his mouth pressed to the inside of his palm.

Crowley’s tongue might be loose, but he still bites back a  _ ‘You look lovely’ _ from passing his lips as he looks at Aziraphale. All drunk and giddy and so grossly incandescent by the neon lights of the many casinos that cover the strip outside.

“We should do it,” Crowley says instead and Aziraphale pulls his head up from his palm, looking at him with half-lidded eyes like he was about to fall asleep right there. “Do what,” He asked, blinking a few times. Pretending as if he didn’t know, he but did. His drunken brain was just running a little slower than it normally would. 

“You know, get married, it is perfect!” Crowley says as he begins to pick himself off of the floor. He had been leaning up against the twin size bed so he had something to help him up and balance for a moment. Legs wobbled below him, both fearing that his legs would give out under him and send his butt crashing back to the floor. 

It doesn’t.

Crowley steps were even more misguided as he walks over to Aziraphale. Stopping a few inches away from the other’s feet. 

“Where would we even find a place to wed us, especially at this hour,” Aziraphale presses. But he had yet to object to the idea fully.

“You really haven’t been to Vegas before have ya,” Crowley reaches out a hand to Aziraphale. The Angel looks at the other's hand for a moment. Setting down the bottle of wine on the chair behind him before grabbing Crowley’s hand.

Neither of them sweated, though the demon’s hand still felt clammy as he helped Aziraphale onto his feet. Crowley smiled widened, showing off sharp teeth as he hooked an arm around Aziraphale’s neck, bringing him flushed against his side. 

They could have sobered up at any time, knowing what they were about to do they’d regret come the morning. But where is the fun in that anyway?

**Author's Note:**

> cleaning out my google docs because I have time and found this fic I started writing for the one good omens server i was in


End file.
